


Tea and Relics: A Hollow Knight Short

by CorundumBleu



Series: Cornifer's Compendium: Short Tales from the World of Hollow Knight [1]
Category: Hollow Knight (Video Games)
Genre: Amnesia, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Lemm is grumpy but that doesn't mean he doesn't care, Quirrel being a badass, Stinky bug, The Knight gets a hug, edited by Sapphire, non-verbal doesn't mean non-sassy, the Void likes tea, written by Ruby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27981432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CorundumBleu/pseuds/CorundumBleu
Summary: Quirrel visits an old friend in the City of Tears as he searches for clues to his past. They are interrupted by a very smelly bug.
Relationships: Relic Seeker Lemm & Quirrel (Hollow Knight), The Knight & Quirrel (Hollow Knight)
Series: Cornifer's Compendium: Short Tales from the World of Hollow Knight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100141
Comments: 18
Kudos: 99





	Tea and Relics: A Hollow Knight Short

**Author's Note:**

> For peak ambience, try listening to [this music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a0-nV4q4R0s&ab_channel=RUSTY-TheSuperforge) while you read, if you're into that sort of thing! :)

Quirrel dashed forward on the narrow walkway slick with rain, ducking beneath the lance of a flying husk sentry before slicing his nail upwards in a wicked arc towards its exposed back. He felt it connect with a sickening  _ squelch _ and the body of the guard burst into orange goo as a throaty growl alerted him to another oncoming foe. Yanking his nail free, Quirrel whirled around just in time to see another heavily armored husk charge him. He ran to meet the challenge, throwing his shoulder into the gap in the husk’s carapace below the thorax and shoving with all his might. The sheer audacity of the move caught the husk off balance and, though it was easily twice his height, Quirrel felt its footing begin to slip on the wet stone. For a moment the two of them teetered on the edge of the path, then the husk before fell backwards into a waterway with a mighty  _ splash _ and sank beneath the surface.

Quirrel straightened up and performed a quick three-sixty to check for further dangers. All was quiet except for the pattering of rain and a lone vengefly, which squawked in alarm when Quirrel’s gaze swept over it and tried its best to look otherwise occupied. 

“Wise choice, little one,” Quirrel chuckled, wiping raindrops from his eyes. “There has been enough killing for today, I think, and I am nearly at my destination.” He still didn’t know how he felt about fighting the former guards and residents of Hallownest’s capital. He knew that the infection had long since destroyed their minds, that they no longer thought or felt as the intelligent bugs they had once been. Indeed, that was what made them so dangerous to travelers like himself--stripped of thought and autonomy, all that remained was that ancient directive burned into their minds by years of dutiful service.  _ Protect the kingdom. _

And yet... Quirrel still hesitated to raise his nail against them, preferring to dodge confrontation with them wherever possible. They might no longer remember the people they had once been, but then again, neither did Quirrel himself.

He sighed and turned into the archway of a large building. Beautiful as the perpetual rain was, it chilled him to his core and he was thankful to be out of it for a time. This part of the city was familiar to him and he was able to avoid further skirmishes with the shambling husks as he progressed, ducking behind corners to let them past unmolested. A few minutes later he spotted the familiar sign and pushed aside a worn tapestry to reveal the doorway to a cozy little shop.

“For the last time, we’re not open for--” the grouchy bug at the counter looked up. “Oh, it’s you, Quirrel. Well, come in then.”

“Good to see you too, Lemm.” Quirrel smiled as set down his nail and pack by the door. “Brisk business lately, I take it?” 

“You could say that. But these young adventurers keep wanting to  _ buy _ things from me. Do I look like some poor peddler of maps and charms to you?” The relic seeker gave him a pained look. “And as if I would ever part with any of my treasures!”

“I should think not,” Quirrel agreed, eyeing the shelves of glittering artifacts that lined the shop. “But I am sure that any young hero who has made it this far into the ruins has come across something of worth that might interest you.”

Lemm waved dismissively. “Oh yes, wanderers’ journals left and right! I swear the other day a young bug was in here trying to sell me the diary of some poor dead fool who had passed through the previous week! But what have you brought me this time, Quirrel? It’s been a while since you’ve stopped by.” His eyes glinted with excitement.

“Quantity over quality, I am afraid,” Quirrel said, laying out his pack to show Lemm the contents. Various tchotchkes tumbled out: a dulled knife in the style of the Mantis tribe, a fossilized Mawlek tooth, a battered Hallownest seal. “I should like to look at those wanderers’ journals if you don’t mind. As per our usual agreement.”

“It would be so much easier if you let me pay you in geo like everyone else,” Lemm grumbled, holding the Mawlek tooth up to the light for closer inspection. “But fine, for old times’ sake.” 

Quirrel smiled as the shopkeep disappeared into a room behind the counter. He had met Lemm shortly after his return to Hallownest, back when he had only just begun to realize the gaping holes in his own memory. The relic seeker was certainly not the easiest bug to get along with, but he took his historical research seriously. That was something Quirrel could respect. The two had struck up a deal: Quirrel brought him any curios he found, and in exchange Lemm allowed him to study his collection. Quirrel had spent countless hours pouring over faded journals and weathered tablets, hunting for clues to Hallownest’s past. To  _ his _ past. Somewhere in these time-worn tomes he knew there had to be something-- _ anything-- _ that might tell him where he had come from. Who he had used to be. What had finally called him back.

Lemm reemerged a few minutes later balancing a stack of bound leather notebooks and lowered them on the table with a huff. Quirrel shook himself out of his reverie. “Ah, thank you old friend! I know how it pains you to let anyone else touch your collection.” He eagerly pulled the top one towards him.

“Ahh! Watch the moisture!” Lemm shoved him back as a droplet of condensation shook free from the edge of Quirrel’s mask, narrowly missing the papers on the table. “How many times must I tell you to keep that thing out of the rain! A beautiful relic like that, and you use it as a hat!”

“Ah, I do apologize. I should be more careful of your wares.” Quirrel removed the bone-white oval mask from his head and wiped it dry with his cloak.

Lemm’s eyes followed his movements, longing written across his face. “Quirrel, if you would just let me hold onto it a while, I could study it…”

“No.”

“I would be ever so careful--”

“No!” Quirrel took a few deep breaths. This wasn’t the first time Lemm had tried to buy the mask off him. “I know you mean well, and goodness knows you are more qualified than most to ask this of me. But whoever gave me that mask trusted me. They were--they  _ are _ \-- counting on me to… to…” He trailed off as that familiar fog descended over his thoughts. It always did whenever he tried to think too hard about his past. It was part of why he had befriended Lemm in the first place. It was easier to come at the problem sideways, reading through old notes by other travelers, than to confront it head on. “I can’t part with it, not yet. I can’t help but feel that it’s the key to… some task I have left to do.”

Lemm shook his head. “If you say so. I guess I should know better than to push you on that by now. Anyway if I’m still alive when your task is done, I’d be happy to take it off your hands. And in the meantime  _ please _ don’t drip water on my stuff.”

Quirrel nodded numbly. “I doubt that will--do you smell something?”

Lemm looked up and screeched just as a small cloaked figure with curved horns pushed aside the tapestry over the door. A visible cloud of stink wafted inside. “No! What do you think you’re doing, coming into my nice little shop smelling like that? Get out! OUT!”

“Come now, Lemm! I know this bug, I can vouch for him!” Quirrel laughed as the shopkeep tried to physically shoo the newcomer out the door with a broom, who nimbly dodged it.

“Unbelievable! Where did it crawl in here from, the sewers?” Lemm demanded. The small knight nodded enthusiastically. It walked up to the table and dumped its sack upside down. Sparkling contents cascaded onto the papers Quirrel had been inspecting moments before. 

“See, it brought relics!” Quirrel could barely contain his laughter. “Why don’t you go put on some tea for your guest, and I’ll get the little bug cleaned up.” 

Lemm wavered for a moment, greed and rage visibly warring across his face. “Fine,” he acquiesced, “but I’d better not smell  _ one whiff of that nonsense  _ when I get back, my relics have been through  _ enough already… _ ” He vanished into the back room, grumbling audibly.

Quirrel turned back to the newcomer. “Well now, my little friend. I wasn’t expecting to see you again so soon. Always a pleasant surprise, though.” The knight inclined its head respectfully. “Still silent as a ghost, eh? Well, we had better tidy you up before our irascible host returns. Even I must admit that I have never before met anyone who smelled quite as… er, heroic as you.”

The knight puffed up its chest proudly, and Quirrel noticed something glinting on the front of its cloak. A pin of some sort? Something stirred in the back of his mind. Had he met someone who smelled like this before? “Where did you say you got this, little ghost? The Royal Waterways?” A nod. “Did you... meet someone down there?” A pause, and then another nod. Quirrel wondered if “meet” had been too gentle a way to phrase that. 

The knight unclipped the charm from its cloak and placed it gently in Quirrel’s hand. The unpleasant odor faded as Quirrel stared at it, transfixed. “I remember him… laughing,” he whispered. “Did… did he seem happy, when you left him?”

The knight didn’t answer. A rivulet of water dripped down the side of its mask. Probably just the rain. 

“You should hold onto this,” Quirrel said, handing the pin back to the knight. “He deserves to be remembered, and I... I don't think I can do that for him.” It nodded and tucked it into the folds of its cloak. 

A moment later Lemm bustled back into the room, carrying a tray laden with three steaming cups of tea. “I don’t smell anything, is it gone?” he asked hopefully. 

The knight responded by reaching up for a mug of tea and dumping the hot liquid into the eyehole of its mask. Something inside it gurgled contentedly.

“Disgusting little thing,” Lemm muttered. Quirrel chuckled, and helped himself to a cup.

* * *

The afternoon wore on as the three got down to their business--Quirrel to deciphering various journals and Lemm and the knight to haggling over prices. Despite being unwilling (or perhaps unable?) to speak, the knight seemed to be driving a hard bargain. 

“I know I gave you more last time, but you can’t expect me to pay full price for a journal that someone dropped in a sewer!” Lemm was saying. The knight slapped the table emphatically several times. “Fine! Fine, 100 geo for that one too.”

Quirrel grinned and shook his head as he set down the final musings of a bug who had apparently perished of cold at the distant Kingdom’s Edge. The knight’s diminutive appearance may fool some, but the ruins of Hallownest were a harsh place, and Quirrel had no doubt that if the small bug had survived this long then it was more than capable of looking after itself. He pulled the next journal off the stack. The cover of this one seemed to have been stained with a sort of goo, and the edges showed singe marks. Curious.

“Oh ho, now  _ this  _ is a beauty!” Lemm cried delightedly as the knight drew another relic from its pack. A fist sized figurine of carved, white material glistened on the table. “A King’s Idol! I have been hunting these for years.” He brought the object inches from his face, inspecting the etching on the surface. “I’ll give you 600, no, 800 geo for it. And worth every penny!”

“Lemm,” Quirrel interrupted, staring frozen at a sketch in the journal he was examining. “Where did you say this journal was found, again?”

“Hmm? Oh, that fellow had just returned from Fog Canyon,” came the distracted reply. “Dangerous business with that Ooma infestation. Now, this Idol here...”

_ Fog Canyon… _ He couldn't remember ever traveling there, at least not since returning to Hallownest. Not that he'd been avoiding it deliberately, he told himself. At least not consciously… And yet, even now the thought of taking that path filled him with an inexplicable melancholy. Quirrel noticed the knight looking at him questioningly. He turned back to the sketch in the journal, which showed some kind of building with sweeping glass windows. The entrance appeared to be an arched doorway topped by a familiar sigil…

“Lemm, I need to buy this journal from you.”

“You-- _ what? _ ”

“I need to buy this journal from you. How much?”

Lemm spluttered. “You-- I don’t sell my relics, you know that!”

Quirrel pushed the sketch towards him. “There, that symbol on the door.  _ It’s the same as my mask _ . This is what I’ve been looking for all these years, I can feel it. I don’t have much geo, but you can take it all. Please, old friend. Just this once.”

“I can’t just--! This is ridiculous!” Lemm looked bewildered.

A dark hand tapped Quirrel on the shoulder. It felt cool and liquid, yet oddly dry. He turned to see the knight pushing the King’s Idol across the table.

“A trade? But I was going to buy that from you fair and square!” Lemm cried. The knight snatched the idol back and stuffed it back into its pack. 

“Wait!” wailed Lemm. He looked frantically back and forth between the Quirrel and the knight, who started to turn towards the door. “Fine! One lousy journal for the idol. This isn’t fair!” The knight shrugged and held out the idol to Lemm, who seized it protectively. 

Quirrel knelt, facing the knight at eye level. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “That is a valuable artifact you’re trading away. You would do that? For me?”

The knight nodded vigorously. It tapped the cover of the journal and then placed its hand over Quirrel’s heart. Once again, he was struck by how alien its carapace felt. 

“You’re right, it is very important to me. I think it might mean everything.” The words caught in his throat and leaned forward to embrace the small bug. “Thank you, my friend.” 

The knight tensed, then relaxed into Quirrel’s arms. After a moment, it reached up to pat him tentatively on the back, which made Quirrel laugh. “Don’t get a lot of hugs, do you?” he asked. The knight shook its head and held up a finger. “Your first one? Well, I think you did very well.”

Quirrel straightened up. “Well, Lemm. I believe that finishes our business here. I wouldn’t dream to trouble you further.”

“I should think not. Quite enough absurdity for me today,” Lemm grumbled. He eyed the knight. “You’re a strange one, but you find good relics. If you come across any more of those idols, you bring them to me. Just be sure to bathe first.”

The knight bowed, then made a show of tucking its purse, newly-heavy with geo, into its cloak. Quirrel waved farewell to Lemm and followed the small bug out the door. They walked side by side, stopping just before stepping out of the shelter of the building. Rain drummed down hollowly on the empty courtyard around them. Through the mist they could just make out the faint outline of that memorial fountain, standing in remembrance to a knight that all had forgotten.

“Where will you go next, my friend? Fog Canyon calls me, and I think I have avoided my destiny for too long. Perhaps at last I will find some answers and, if it is not too much to hope for, some peace. I have you to thank for that.” Quirrel thought of the precious journal in his pack. “I do believe this is where we part once more. Unless you would care to join me…?”

The knight shook his head and pointed to the shape of a tower looming higher than the rest of the city, just visible as a shadow in the rain. 

“Of course. You have your own quest to follow.”

They stood a while longer. At some point, the knight reached up to hold Quirrel’s hand. Its grip was tentative, but hopeful. Quirrel squeezed back reassuringly.

“Peace, little ghost. I do not believe this will be the last time we meet. The world is too beautiful for a friendship such as ours to end here. Ascend your spire, and watch for the knights within--I hear that their husks still guard the tower’s occupant. Then search for me in Fog Canyon. I will wait for you there.” Quirrel closed his eyes, his voice lowering to a whisper. “I believe I will need your strength for what is to come.”

The knight looked up at him, its inky eyes as inscrutable as ever. Then it seized Quirrel in a quick hug, its arms barely reaching his waist. A moment later it ducked out into the rain and disappeared, silent as a ghost. 

“Goodbye, little one.” Quirrel whispered after it. “Thank you.”

For the first time in a long time, Quirrel was going home.

**Author's Note:**

> Phew! This was so much fun to write (definitely more fun than writing my final project shhh). I love Quirrel's beautiful, tragic journey in the game so much. I've always thought he and Lemm would get along given their common interests and that their personalities would play off each other well. And I don't know about you, but when I played through the game I thought the knight was sassy AF. 
> 
> Anyway, the knight needs more hugs. Please give it all the hugs, reader.
> 
> Thank you again so much for reading! I have ideas for a couple other Hollow Knight shorts but I don't know if/when I'll get around to writing them, so if you enjoyed this let me know in the comments and I may get around to it sooner!
> 
> Geo, kalala!


End file.
